Is anybody there?

Last night was a nightmare! It started the moment I settled down to write. It was late, a time when most people would be sleeping. But this is the time when I get most of my inspiration, staring
out into the darkness that blankets the village around me. Sometimes, on a clear night, I watch the stars and if I’m lucky, a shooting star will entertain me. But there were no stars as I tapped my keys, just that strange noise again.

For those who follow the stories, you will remember the strange noise that came from Mocha’s old room, the one she died in. I must quickly tell all those who
don’t know, that Mocha was a very old hen who spent her last few weeks, as a house hen...on the advice of the vet of course! Well it came back, no, not poor Mocha but the noise, in the room above my head.

It has been quiet for many weeks now; no Jako, no Jake (the two very fortunate field mice) and no sign of slip the slug and certainly, no strange noise coming from Mocha’s old room. Life was
trickling along nicely at our home for waifs and strays. But all good things come to an end, so the saying goes.

It started with a low droning sound which got louder
and louder. I was sure it would wake up my kind and unassuming husband. But he slept through it and so did two fat cats. The third one was missing.

While
the droning echoed in the room just above my head, the old coat stand in the hall crashed over and made me jump. As I rushed to see what was happening, a tiny figure ran over my foot. I knew in an instant that it was Jako. And then I saw the missing cat...
with poor tiny Jake in his mouth (yet again) well, his tail was in his mouth.

‘Drop it!’ I screamed. He dropped poor Jake to the floor and scarpered.
Jake scurried underneath the coat stand.

The noise upstairs had stopped and the house was quiet. An eerie quiet, as if something else was about to happen. Now
where was Jako?

I caught dear Jake in an empty biscuit tin with the expertise of any professional mouse catcher.

‘Let’s go for another stroll over to the field,’ I said to Jake. And as I was putting on my wellies, I felt something soft and warm under my toes. Thinking it was a sock, I curled my
toes around it and dragged it out.

What happened next happened in a flash. I screamed as Jako catapulted through the air and landed, thankfully, in the washing
basket. I couldn’t have made up a better story, but all this is true.

‘I have a book to complete,’ I said to Jako and Jake as I strolled across
to the field to let them go, yet again. But I doubt they cared.